


Chasing a Star

by Neila



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Secret Identity, There may be guns blood and stuff but nothing too explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila/pseuds/Neila
Summary: “Do you really have that much bad luck, or do you purposely keep getting in trouble just so I can save you?”“Maybe I just have enough good luck to find you every time.”Or, alternatively, in which Johnny is the superhero in charge of saving the city, and Taeyong a journalist who keeps getting in trouble just to get a great headline.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	1. High Fall

It was windy up there, Taeyong noted, and even though it was already June, it was also a quite chilly night. He thought about going back to his room and grabbing a jacket, but he knew that Yuta and Ten at the emergency door wouldn’t let him pass. He didn’t even remember what they wanted him to do on the rooftop of the dorm building. Probably scream something at the top of his lungs, or spit on the first person who walked past the entrance. Something stupid that would get him in trouble, that was obvious. As he walked around the place, his mouth started to get dry. His hands felt empty not holding the can that had been there for the past five hours.

He was not a heavy drinker, definitely, usually passing out after the second or third can of beer, but this time he had lost count after the tenth, and all Taeyong remembered at this point was that his two roommates had dared him to go up to the rooftop and do _ something_. Oh, right, it was the last day of college, he remembered that too, and that’s why they had been drinking. They were graduates now, finally over the hell of finals, long seminars, boring essays, and annoying frat parties. Not only that, but Taeyong was officially a journalist. He had worked his ass off for the past four years, juggling between classes, a part-time job and being the head writer of the college’s newspaper just to get his dream job. Of course he had got it, Taeyong scoffed with a smitten grin, as if he was arguing with himself. He always accomplished his goals, no matter how hard he had to work, and so he was allowed to celebrate tonight, right? 

The thought immediately made his smile grow, and laughing to himself he approached the edge of the building. There he could feel the wind caressing his face, messing up his hair and filling up his lungs as he breathed in. Taeyong closed his eyes and pictured himself sitting at his own desk, typing away the hottest news of the day, or maybe the article that would get him his first award, and after a productive day of work, he would go back home. He would have his own flat on the highest building of the city, on the top floor. It would be full of plants and have a place for Ruby to sleep, a kitchen all for his own amusement and a rooftop balcony a thousand times better than this forgotten place. Taeyong was going to live the life of his dreams, that he had determined, and he felt as if from now on, he would always be on top of the world. 

When he opened his eyes he stared up at the stars, and he had a wild idea. Maybe if he set his mind on it, he could catch one. Yuta and Ten would have to wait a bit longer, Taeyong decided, because he wanted to try something. He climbed up the low brick wall that was between him and the void, completely forgetting about his slight fear of heights. There wasn’t even a fence, and the space was wide enough for him to stand on his feet and walk without worrying. Now the wind was stronger, and he opened his arms as if he wanted to fly. He reached up and followed his hands with his eyes, grabbing air like it was the stars that painted the sky. The moon was there too, but he rejected the idea. It was not fun to grab only a crescent moon. 

Far away he saw the city, a concrete wall that broke the horizon, and around him, the college campus seemed so, so small that Taeyong wondered how the hell he could have got lost so many times before. He started walking, skipping on his steps as he circled the building. He twirled around and laughed to himself, blabbering things as if someone could hear, not minding the height nor the wind that was trying to push him down. Then, he heard something that made him freeze. He was again just above the entrance of the building, but it was no person he could spit on what he heard, it was a soft mewling, the most angelical sound Taeyong had ever heard.

“Kitty, kitty,” he called, trying to grab the animal’s attention. It was simply a lost kitten trying to find its way back to the alley it must have come from, but for Taeyong, drunk and oblivious to the danger of being on the edge of a hundred-foot fall, it was the most precious thing his eyes could land on. He clutched down, as if trying to get closer, and kept whispering to catch its attention. A whine left his lips when the cat disappeared under the building’s porch, but the long shadow of the animal gave him hope. He leaned forward to try to see it again, but his hand slipped and he fell forward. The scream coming from the bottom of his throat echoed through the air when his whole body started falling, and he closed his eyes as he threw his arms around trying to grab onto anything. 

When his back hit something hard, Taeyong swore his heart stopped for a second. He opened his eyes, confused as to why he was still conscious, and found another pair staring. He may have thrown up if he opened his mouth, and as he looked around in panic he realized he was on the arms of a stranger, but not on the floor. They were floating down slowly, and unconsciously Taeyong held onto the man’s shoulders for dear life, closing his eyes shut and hiding his face on his chest because suddenly the wind didn’t feel so good. He only let go when he was put down softly on the floor and felt the asphalt under his feet. 

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked concerned, stepping away from Taeyong. He was definitely not okay, shaking and unable to catch his breath. He tried to speak, but he could not even utter a word. Was the man in front of him an angel? He didn’t have wings, but he did look heavenly. Taeyong couldn’t see his face properly with all the darkness, but the man was a head taller than him and the hint of his smile made Taeyong forget all about the shock for a moment. “Please, go back to your room.” 

“Wai—” Taeyong rushed forward in an attempt to grab the stranger by the arm and make him stay, but he started floating again, and as the word left Taeyong’s mouth he felt all the beer in his stomach go up his esophagus. He had to bend down to throw it all up, and when he looked back to the sky, teary-eyed, out of breath, embarrassed and confused, the man wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in place for a couple of minutes, hesitating on whether to go back inside or stay there, in hopes that the flying man would appear again. In the end, he decided to walk back to his dorm, legs still shaking and mind buzzing with thoughts. 

When Yuta and Ten asked how had he gone back to the dorm if not by the emergency exit they had been waiting at, the only way in and out of the roof, Taeyong did not know what to answer. He went to bed that night with another resolution; he promised himself that no matter what it took, he would find out who the stranger that had saved him was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a short introduction to the story, I hope you enjoyed it! I'll try to post the very first chapter soon.


	2. Latest News

The day was busy. People walked down the street on their way to work, the subway was filled and the hustle and bustle of workers on the office floors would make anyone dizzy. Taeyong typed away at his desk as everyone rustled around him, papers flew back and forth, phones rang incessantly and shouts and complains filled the room. It was a routine, but one he enjoyed very much. He was so accustomed to the background chaos that there was no other way for him to concentrate, and he only realized his own phone had been ringing for a while after he pressed the final period and allowed himself to look away from the computer screen. He checked who the caller was and smiled to himself. 

“Yes, Yuta?” Taeyong put the phone closer to his ear as he sent the paper to get printed, grabbing a pen to fiddle with as he listened to what his best friend had to say. 

“Hey Yong,” as always, Yuta seemed in a rush. “Just walked past a couple of iffy guys pushing a woman into an alley. Thought you may want to know.”

It wasn’t good news, but Taeyong smiled. “Send me the address,” he said as he got up, grabbing his jacket and walking to the printer to retrieve his work. He needn't walk much. Jaehyun, who sat on the cubicle in front of him and had been doing errands all day, handed him his paper. “And call the police, will you?” he said to Yuta as he nodded in gratitude to his co-worker.

“Done it already, but I’m pretty sure he’s on his way too,” Yuta answered. Taeyong could hear him rustle around with something, so he guessed his friend was on an errand. Or maybe two or three, Yuta was a busy guy. “If you hurry now you may get there before the cops.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way,” Taeyong walked through his restless colleagues and knocked on his boss’ door. “See you later, don’t be late!” He didn’t even listen to Yuta’s reply, he ended the call and hid his phone in his pocket. “Miss Bae! I finished tomorrow’s column. I’m going out now.”

“Leave it there,” the woman said, pointing with her chin at a pile of stacked papers and not even bothering to look up at Taeyong until he was rushing back to the door. “Where are you even going now, Lee?”

“To get tomorrow’s first page, miss,” Taeyong smiled confidently and snuck out of the office before the woman could start scolding him once again. Irene Bae was a grave, eccentric woman who liked to have everything under control. She just wanted the best for her print, and Taeyong did too, but their ways of working were completely different. She always had something to say or to complain about, she wanted things to be done perfectly and in time, and anything that differed from their usual reports she thought of as a loss of time. Taeyong had needed almost two years to learn how to deal with her, but all the arguing had been worth it if just to be able to do what he enjoyed the most; fieldwork. He sprinted downstairs, thinking the elevator would make him lose too much time, and when he was finally outside he ran, he ran like he had been doing for the past two years. 

For a few weeks after the rooftop incident, as Taeyong called it, he had tried to convince himself that it had only been a dream or a hallucination caused by the amount of alcohol he drank that night. He had ended up telling Yuta and Ten about it after their insistence, and of course, his two best friends laughed at him. A flying man was a ridiculous idea, or at least it was until it started appearing on TV and every newspaper in the city. The flying man saved people, just like he had saved Taeyong that night. He fought thieves, mafias and any kind of criminals, he rescued people from fires, cats trapped in trees and dogs drowning in rivers. He could fly, that Taeyong already knew, he was apparently as strong as a titan, and bullets couldn’t pierce his skin. Some said he could even shoot laser beams through his eyes, read minds, travel in time and hear any kind of sound from miles away. That’s why he always knew when and where there was a danger. It shouldn’t, but it made sense. Now, Taeyong did not know to what extent all of that was true or just overstatements of the stranger’s powers, but the moment he stepped on his office as a newbie and his boss gave him his own desk, he had gone back to his resolution of finding out who that man was. 

Of course, Taeyong wasn’t the only one trying. Everyone wanted to know the mysterious man’s identity. He was adored, worshipped, an idol of masses, but he only appeared to save the day and went back to hiding. He did not once talk with the press, and so people started speculating. Some called him Superhuman, others Superman, God, or even the Devil, and all those rumors about his superpowers started appearing. Only two things were clear; he wasn’t human, and he was good. 

When Taeyong had started working for the Neo City newspaper he had promised his boss he would get all the exclusives of Superhuman. Though it had taken him a lot of persuading and she wasn’t still really keen on the idea —it was all sensationalism, after all, and anyone could make up some lies about a super dude and make it sell—, Taeyong was allowed to go hunt him, always after having finished his daily articles. They had met countless times, and Taeyong still kept his promise of having the hottest news about the hero, though trying to talk to him was useless, as most of the time he just flew away before the journalist could approach him. Even if it had allowed Taeyong to get recognized for his work and become one of Neo City’s best writers, it wasn’t enough. He had got exactly what he had aspired to have in over a year; a nice, spacious flat on the center of the city, recognition and a fixed place on his dream print, but the need of finding out about the truth didn’t let him sleep well at night. He just wanted to know, to find the answer for and by himself, he didn’t care about the rest of the world. 

Clutching at his camera and already sweating buckets, Taeyong headed into an alley and slowed down his pace. The day was grey, it had rained the night before, and so there wasn’t much light in the narrow streets between the buildings. He tried to be as silent as he could, though the cats running around the accumulated trash, the rusty pipes dripping rhythmically and his own feet stepping into poodles made it difficult to focus. 

A shoot echoed through the brick walls, and Taeyong ran up to the nearest building following the sound. Instead of going in, he approached a window. It seemed like an abandoned garage, chains hung from the ceiling and there were car pieces scattered everywhere. He hid between a pile of boxes in case anyone was walking around, and tried to look inside, past the dirt of the glass. The first thing he saw when he looked through the window was a poor woman tied up to a chair, mouth covered with a dirty cloth and make-up smeared on her face. She couldn’t stop crying, and a man behind her kept shaking her up. He was pressing a gun against her temple and screaming something Taeyong couldn’t hear. He was wearing a clean-cut suit with a red tie, and if it hadn’t been for the situation, Taeyong would have thought he was just a normal citizen. No wonder Yuta had found it weird. A few meters in front of them, the superhero, dressed in his usual deep blue suit and red cape, with his hair slicked back, stood facing away from Taeyong. 

Covering himself all he possibly could, Taeyong placed his camera on the window frame and started taking photos. The criminal had stopped screaming, but his hand was shaking even more than the poor victim's shoulders. Superhuman seemed unfaced, and though the man clearly seemed to be telling him not to move, he stepped forward. In a blink of an eye, he wasn’t there anymore, but behind the man, who turned around just in time to receive a hit on the face. On the floor, nose bleeding and probably a broken chin, he tried to shoot the hero, but not a single bullet went through his body. 

It was so easy for Superhuman to lift up the criminal and finish him, throwing his body against the wall, that Taeyong couldn’t help but be amazed. As Superhuman untied the woman and helped her up on her feet, Taeyong kept shooting his camera. Those would be such great first-page photos, he thought. The police arrived at that moment, breaking into the building and pointing his guns at any possible threat, though there weren’t any. Superhuman exchanged a few words with the agents, and before Taeyong could see him take off, he felt something pressing against his back.

“Hello, pretty boy,” a voice near his ear made his blood run cold, “Whatcha’ got there?” Taeyong gulped down hard, not daring to turn around as he realized he had a gun pointing at him. “You know you shouldn’t be spying on people, right? Let me see what you took.”

Taeyong gasped when the man snatched the camera from his hands and finally turned around trying to take it back. “That’s min—” He tried to say when he saw the man going through the photos he had just taken, deleting some as he kept revising them with fake amusement. When Taeyong attempted to grab the camera back, the man pointed the gun at his forehead.

“Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll paint the wall with your brains.” Taeyong obeyed and stayed still until the man got tired of scanning the pictures. He was dressed exactly like the other one, the red tie standing out from the rest of his clothes. Taeyong’s heart drummed in his chest and a few tears piled up on the corner of his eyes, though he doubted if they were of fear or of grieve for his photos. “Okay, I think that’ll be enough,” the man mumbled, but instead of giving the camera back to Taeyong, he threw it to the floor and looked back up at him. “Now it’s your turn.”

Taeyong pressed his eyes shut as he heard the click of the gun’s hammer. A shot went off, but he didn’t feel it. He ventured to peek when he felt no pain but heard the man grunt, and instead of a stranger, Taeyong saw Superhuman in front of him. The man was on the floor, writhing in pain with a twisted arm and bleeding from God knows where. Cursing, he tried to get up and attack Superhuman, but a push was enough to get him back on the floor. Taeyong watched the scene dumbfounded, eyes moving from the criminal to Superhuman. 

“The police will get him, don’t worry,” the hero said, unfaced and calm as he bent down to pick up Taeyong’s camera. “There, I think this is yours.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong mumbled, taking it from him and checking if it had been damaged. Though he was still blinking away the shock, he looked back up and, realizing his savior was about to flee, he spoke before Superhuman could disappear. “Wait!” He didn’t expect it to work, so when the man turned around and waited for him to speak again, Taeyong said what first came to his mind. “Anything to say for the press?” 

“Just tell them to be more careful next time,” the hero smiled at Taeyong and winked before taking off. Taeyong felt his face heat up from embarrassment, and he stood there until the red cape faded behind the grey clouds. A couple of policemen ran up to him, and while one of them handcuffed the criminal, the other checked up on Taeyong. With a sigh, he finally let his tired, shaky legs crumble, and slid down to the floor with his back pressed against the concrete wall. He reached into his pocket and showed the policeman his press ID, just wanting to be let alone. 

It took him a few minutes to finally get back on his feet and shake the dirt off his clothes. Luckily, his camera had not been damaged enough for the few remaining photos to get lost. He would still have to buy a new one, but that wouldn’t be the first time. It hadn’t been the first time he got a gun pointed at him either, but he guessed he would never get used to that. As he walked down the street on his way back to work, Taeyong stared at the photo he had decided to use, one of the two remaining. Superhuman untying the woman would make a good enough first page, even if it was dark and slightly blurry, and Taeyong couldn’t help but smile thinking about all the possible headlines. 

While waiting for a traffic light to turn green, Taeyong decided to check his phone, and once again he realized too late Yuta was calling him. This time there were at least nine missed calls. Panicking, he picked up the phone and placed it near his ear. 

“Where the fuck are you?! I’ve been waiting for half an hour!” Yuta exclaimed on the other line. Taeyong gasped, and even though the light had turned green, he stood in place.

“Shit Yuta, I forgot,” he started apologizing, changing his route and heading to the usual restaurant. He didn’t usually forget about his quick-lunch-dates with his best friend, but today his mind had wandered off too much after his reporting incident. It was totally his fault, he knew damn well he shouldn’t be daydreaming at work. 

“You better move your ass here right now, I have to go back to work in less than an hour!” Yuta scolded him, and Taeyong just hoped he wasn’t as stressed as he sounded over the phone. The headlines would have to wait, Taeyong told himself, because chances of spending quality time with his best friend were rare and he had to make the most of them. 

Taeyong went back to work with a full stomach and a sheepish smile plastered on his face. Speaking with Yuta was always so therapeutic that he wasn’t thinking about a gun pointed at his head or a caped man saving him anymore. As he walked into the floor, intending to go straight to his work desk, he heard Miss Bae shouting. “Is he back? Tell him to come here!” And, guessing that he was referring to him, he made a beeline to his boss’ office. A couple of men were waiting outside, on the lounge area, and by the frightened look on their faces, Taeyong guessed they were there for a job interview. Sadly for them, they would have to wait a bit more. 

Jaehyun walked out of the room just as Taeyong opened the door and shoot him an apologetic smile. It was like that every time one of them had to confront their boss, and Taeyong just wished whatever she had to say wouldn’t take as long as usual. He was tired and had an article to write. 

“Well, what did you get? Haven’t heard about Superdude all day,” the woman greeted Taeyong, pointing with her chin at the TV on the other side of the room and changing channels incessantly as if to prove her point.

“Because I’m the only one who saw him apart from the police,” Taeyong tried to explain, proud of that accomplishment, but before he could continue his boss approached him and snatched the camera away from his hands. Everyone kept doing that, and he was starting to get irritated. 

“That’s all?” Miss Bae raised an eyebrow as he looked through it, giving it back to Taeyong once she was done.

“You see, I—”

“I don’t care! I don’t care,” the woman raised her hand to shush Taeyong, and he had to swallow his words. “Pictures like this don’t sell, Taeyong, we need action! Aren’t you the one always saying you want Superhuman to become our thing? Next time at least bring me something exciting! But well, it doesn’t matter now, what’s done it’s done and you said you were the only one there, so we’re going to print it anyway. Now go and write it, you won’t go home until I can revise it.” Taeyong doubted whether she was finished with her monologue or not, but after opening his mouth to answer he was cut off again. “Oh, but before... I want you to meet someone.” 

Confused, Taeyong watched her open the door, call a name ha had never heard before, and push a man inside. It was one of the people who had been waiting outside. He was tall, probably more than a head taller than Taeyong. He was wearing a grey suit and his eyes were hidden behind thick wayfarer glasses. His black hair was slightly messy, parted in the middle but covering his forehead. Taeyong smiled at him, and the man smiled back awkwardly. Maybe it was because he was nervous, but he did not look comfortable at all. Taeyong extended his hand at him to start the introduction, but Miss Bae cut them again.

“John, this is Taeyong. Taeyong, this is John Suh. He’s our new addition and will be covering news reports,” she said excitedly, and finally, Taeyong dared to speak before her. 

“Wait, but I thought I was in charge of that?” He asked, trying to hide his annoyance, though the frown on his face made it a bit too obvious. He didn’t like someone new taking his un-official position. 

“Yeah, yeah, but John is such a fast typer, and so quick-witted! I’m sure he’ll do a better job. You can help him if he needs it, but you know I prefer you doing featured articles.” She grabbed their hands and clasped them together, and though John’s grip was tight, his palm was sweating. Taeyong looked up at him and wasn’t able to stay mad much longer. He did seem sorry about it, though of course, it was not his fault at all. “Why don’t you go and show him around, introduce him to the others? Come on, I have work to do, can’t be here all day!” 

They were both pushed outside the office, door closing shut behind their back, and Taeyong made his way to his cubicle. He heard John following behind, apologizing to anyone he accidentally crashed with or stepped on. “I think that’s your place,” Taeyong pointed to the desk next to him, which had been empty for as long as he could remember. He just hoped this John Suh wouldn’t ruin his comfort zone. 

“By the way, nice to meet you, Taeyong,” John said shyly after taking a seat. Taeyong swore he had stuttered a bit. The chair seemed too small for his big body, and he would definitely need more space once papers started to get stacked on the table. He kept pushing his glasses back up, and there seemed to be a concealed excitement in his voice Taeyong couldn’t help but notice. Taeyong glanced at him and smiled to himself, realizing with how much amazement the newbie kept looking around the place. He had once been like that, too.

“Nice to meet you too, John,” Taeyong answered, focusing on his computer screen and turning all his attention back to work. He had to write about his superhero, he didn’t have time for other people. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/madsuh) and [cc](http://www.curiouscat.me/madsuh).


End file.
